


A Good Pet

by bonesofether



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, NSFW, Other, Oviposition, Self-Servicing, dubcon, ovipos, valveplug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonesofether/pseuds/bonesofether
Summary: When some of Sunstreaker's "needs" become too much for the mech, Bob proves what a good pet they actually are.





	A Good Pet

Rolling over on his recharge slab, Sunstreaker gave a frustrated groan as he struggled to get comfortable for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. His plating was hot and shimmering with coolant residue, and any warming blankets had been tossed aside, unneeded and unwanted. The heat came to a aching want between his thighs, and the mech had to resist the urge to give his groinal plating an indulgent rub...or two...or more.

Beneath the recharge slab, Bob was sleeping soundly. The Insecticon had been most appreciative of the tossed aside warming blankets, and had made a small nest out of them. He was currently burrowed under the latest one, but occasionally chirped when he heard his master toss and turn.

“Frag it,” Sunstreaker hissed, rubbing his thighs together slowly.

His attempt to try and soothe the aching want between his legs quickly backfired, as the moment the pieces of smooth metal garnered friction against each other, the heat sparked even hotter. Sunstreaker gritted his dentae and quickly stopped, ventilating a long, irritated sigh. Even then, the rush of air did little to cool his frame, and the more the night dragged on, the more Sunstreaker became convinced that the heat wasn’t going to go away without a more...hands on approach.

Frowning briefly in thought, Sunstreaker leaned over the edge of his berth. He carefully peeked around, only seeing Bob’s antennae poking out from the nest of blankets they’d created. The Insecticon seemed content enough, even if they did occasionally chirp or shift around under the blankets. Content enough that they should remain asleep through what Sunstreaker was about to do.

Scooting back on the berth so that he could rest his back against the wall behind him, Sunstreaker ventilated a long sigh as he let his interface paneling slide aside. His spike pressurized seamlessly, and there was a rush of cool air against his bared, lubricant coated valve lips. The mech stifled a quiet grunt at the sensation, rolling his hips just a little to get situated.

Going slow, wanting to ensure that he worked every last bit of the aching desire out of him, Sunstreaker slid his hands down his abdominal plated and then towards his now exposed spike and valve. He lightly trailed his digit tips up along his spike, stifling another grunt when his member twitched in response. The mech could feel lubricant slipping down from his valve entrance, and, after a moment’s thought, plunged his index and middle digits into his valve.

Sensors lit up in response, the mesh walls of Sunstreaker’s valve reflexively clenching softly around the digits. Moaning softly, Sunstreaker let his helm rest against the wall behind him, shuttering his optics briefly. He wiggled his digits around in his valve, making a few, soft pants when they rubbed against already receptive and sensitive sensors. After swirling his digits around against the mesh walls, Sunstreaker slowly drew out his now lubricant covered digits.

Not wasting any time, Sunstreaker rubbed the still warm lubricant against his spike. The plating along the member immediately flared slightly, responding to the slick, viscous fluid. Grinning headily, still forcing himself to remain quiet so as to not wake up his pet, Sunstreaker wrapped his hand around his spike, moving it around so as to spread the lubricant all across the plating. The heat between his thighs was now burning with want, as well as the anticipation of finally experiencing release.

Groaning softly as he began to work his hand up and down along his rigid spike, Sunstreaker let his gaze drift down so that he could watch his ‘handiwork’. He started out the pace slowly, going just fast enough that he could keep the lubricant on his spike warm and slick. As the mech’s arousal grew, a small bead of transfluid rose to the tip of his spike, the plating continuing to flare against his palm responsively.

Whimpering and slowly writhing around on the berth, Sunstreaker grinned as he gritted his dentae. He couldn’t deny that there was a little bit of added excitement from the fact that he needed to remain quiet, even if another part of him wanted to groan, pant, and moan as loud as his vocalizer would allow. Lubricant, hot and wet, was smeared across his inner thighs and had started to drip onto the berth beneath him, while transfluid continued to leak from his hard spike.

Ventilation starting to speed up, Sunstreaker increased the pace at which he was stroking his spike. He could feel it getting harder as more transfluid began to well up, the plating responding fully to both the lubricant smeared on it and Sunstreaker’s consistent palm. And when his digits ran across a particularly sensitive piece of plating, Sunstreaker’s arousal jumped, his valve walls clenching on nothing. A hoarse cry managed to escape, but by this point, his heady, burning want made Sunstreaker keep going.

Grunting and gritting his dentae, trying to remain as quiet as he could as he felt his overload begin to notch up, Sunstreaker panted and watched as his hand worked up and down his spike fervently. Opalescent transfluid mingled with his lubricant and dripped down his hand, determined to overload hard enough to get some sleep, Sunstreaker reached down with his free hand and began to rub at his already firm node in earnest.

Fresh, new bolts of excitement and carnal want shot through Sunstreaker’s frame, making it go rigid as he worked on both his spike and exterior node. He panted quickly, licking his lips as he tilted his helm back, feeling his overload nearing. Lubricant welled up thickly from his valve, now, and the mech was able to smear it against his node and the base of his spike as he continued to fervently feed the heat that was going to bring him to climax.

“Hnh…! A-ah!”

His overload peaked, and Sunstreaker groaned loudly as he doubled over, continuing to jerkingly milk his spike of the transfluid that was now pulsing across his midsection and thighs. He could feel his valve walls clenching on air, lubricant ebbing rhythmically from his valve’s entrance. Warmth flooded his frame in the midst of his erotic release, and a few throbs of transfluid were strong enough they spattered against Sunstreaker’s chassis. His senses spun in delighted release, and Sunstreaker moaned again as he rode out the last throes of his overload.

The last waves of his climax subsided, and exhaustion washed over Sunstreaker. He collapsed back against the wall unceremoniously, his own transfluid spattered across his frame and warm lubricant dribbling from his valve. The cool air of the room fluttered against his bared valve and hot frame, and Sunstreaker made a soft moan as he withdrew his hands.

...and still, he wasn’t satisfied.

The exhaustion that had followed his overload wasn’t the contented exhaustion that Sunstreaker had been hoping for. His lower midsection ached to be filled, and Sunstreaker silently regretted having not thrust his digits into his valve when he’d overloaded. Finally, most frustratingly, his overload only seemed to have made his carnal hunger even stronger.

With a tired sigh, Sunstreaker looked around his habsuite, trying to find something that he could use as a makeshift spike. He needed to overload again, but, more importantly, he wanted his valve to be filled when he overloaded. Sunstreaker was a little surprised, as he’d never had a desire quite like this before, but given how demanding it was, he wasn’t about to try and deny it.

Just as he was beginning to think he’d have to use his digits, Sunstreaker heard something move underneath his berth followed by an inquisitive chirp.

Bob was awake.

“Slag,” Sunstreaker grumbled, looking over his transfluid streaked frame. While it wasn’t the first time he’d jerked off with Bob asleep under his berth, this was arguably one of the messiest.

Before Sunstreaker could do anything to try and get Bob to go back to sleep, the Insecticon peeked over the edge of the berth. He looked up at Sunstreaker, antennae twitching curiously. Bob then flared his jaws a little, moving his helm around as though he were smelling the air. After a moment, the Insecticon looked back to Sunstreaker and gave a questioning churr.

“Come on, Bob,” Sunstreaker sighed. “Just...go back to sleep, would you?”

The Insecticon, however, had other ideas. He scrabbled up onto the berth, much to Sunstreaker’s displeased surprise. The mech quickly pulled up his legs, feeling exposed and still very frustrated. He waved a hand at his pet, trying to get them to get off the berth.

“No, Bob, stop!” Sunstreaker hissed, keeping his voice down so as not to possibly wake his neighbor in the habsuite across from his. “Go back to sleep. Now!”

Instead, Bob began to make a series of odd chirps, leaning forward and appearing to sniff at the small spatters of lubricant and transfluid that had spilled onto the berth. Sunstreaker felt a flush of embarrassment rise to his features, and he tried to wave the stubborn Insecticon away again. Bob completely ignored the gesture, as he was much more interested in the remnants of Sunstreaker’s overload.

“Come on, Bob,” Sunstreaker groaned, giving his pet a frustrated glare. “I just need another five more-”

A long, serpentine glossa suddenly slipped out from Bob’s jaws and the Insecticon lapped up the small smattering of Sunstreaker’s transfluid with a single, smooth lick.

The sight of the Insecticon’s glossa and what it was lapping up made Sunstreaker stop mid sentence...and his insides tense wantonly.

Just as quickly as the reaction had come on, Sunstreaker tried to push it away. He may be desperate right now, but he wasn’t so desperate that he was going to get his pet Insecticon to frag him. Besides, they probably couldn’t even interface with him...right?

“Bob, that’s not...I don’t think you should…” Sunstreaker trailed off as the Insecticon continued to sniff the air before shuffling forward towards him. The mech reflexively held his legs together, concealing his still bared valve entrance and erect spike. “Bob, what are you doing? Go back...go back to sleep.”

Even as he gave the order, Sunstreaker found his curiosity, and the damnably unceasing, heated ache in him, beginning to make his resolve wane. Bob was obviously interested in...some aspect of what had just transpired. It was quite possible that the Insecticon was just curious about the new smells, the sounds, and now, the taste. But just as Sunstreaker was about to write off Bob’s behavior as ignorant curiosity, the Insecticon began to nuzzle at the small space between his legs.

“Bob…!” Sunstreaker cried, quickly trying to decide if he should move back or give into what his wanton hunger was suggesting.

Making a frustrated growl, Bob hunched over a little and tried to nuzzle his face between Sunstreaker’s tightly held together legs. Before he could protest again, Sunstreaker felt Bob open their jaws just a little...and then the warm, slick feeling of the tip of the Insecticon’s glossa flicking over his exterior node and valve lips. A shuddering cry leapt from Sunstreaker’s vocalizer, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to silence himself. He looked down at Bob, both confused and surprised. The Insecticon returned the look with a tilt of their helm and a purred chirp.

His spark hammering in excited trepidation, Sunstreaker slowly let his legs fall apart, exposing his lubricated valve and hard spike. He was immediately grateful that he kept his hand over his mouth, as Bob wasted no time. The Insecticon quickly shuffled forward and began eagerly lapping up the excess lubricant and transfluid that had spilled across Sunstreaker’s valve lips. Muffling a contented groan into his hand, Sunstreaker squeezed his optics shut as gave into the incredibly tantalizing and arousing feel of Bob’s glossa firmly lolling around his valve entrance. He whimpered as he felt lubricant begin to well up in his needy valve, and then quickly gasped when Bob hungrily lapped it up.

“Bob,” Sunstreaker panted from between his digits, arching his back. “Bob-you-hngh!”

His stream of near incoherent words was cut off when he felt the Insecticon’s glossa suddenly plunge deep into his valve, and Sunstreaker clamped his hand over his mouth tightly to muffle his contented cry. He’d never felt the depths of his valve explored like this, and the mesh walls responsively clenched softly around Bob’s glossa. The Insecticon didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they appeared to be encouraged by the reaction, as their churring increased in both volume and softness.

Hypersensitive sensors were now alight in erotic delight, sending thrills of feedback every time they were stimulated by Bob’s dextrous glossa. Sunstreaker couldn’t help the seemingly incessant moans that escaped from his vocalizer, and he let his hand fall away from his mouth. At this rate, he was going to overload again, and he was in such a heady mess that he didn’t care if someone heard him.

“Bob… Ah-ah! Bob, slag it. I-I’m going to…!”

Just as he could feel his overload charges notching up, Sunstreaker felt Bob withdraw their glossa from his heated valve. Making a frustrated whine, he looked down at the Insecticon in irritation. While he couldn’t really demand anything, Sunstreaker would have been lying if he said that he hadn’t been anticipating to overload while Bob orally tantalized his valve.

The Insecticon, though, appeared to have only been getting started, as they suddenly pounced lightly onto Sunstreaker. The mech grunted shortly, now thoroughly confused as well as hot and bothered, and he looked down at the Insecticon that now had him pinned against the berth. He lightly pushed against Bob’s shoulders, but the Insecticon didn’t budge.

“Bob, what are you-”

Sunstreaker was cut off by the exhilarating feel of his valve lips being parted by something thick, firm, and slick. He groaned and clutched at Bob’s frame as his valve was filled to the point that there was even the pleasant pain of the mesh walls being stretched to their extent. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sunstreaker wondered if he was doing something taboo by getting fragged by his Insecticon pet. The moment Bob began to slowly pump their spike in and out of Sunstreaker’s wanton valve, however, the mech dismissed the thoughts completely. He clung to the Insecticon’s frame, lifting his hips and groaning audibly.

Seeming pleased with Sunstreaker’s receptiveness and responses, Bob made a low, growling churr as he began to pick up the pace. He kept his warm frame pressed against Sunstreaker’s, occasionally chirping and giving reassuring licks against the mech’s neck cables. Every time his spike penetrated deep into Sunstreaker’s valve, it sent a new flash of carnal stimulation. The heat in Sunstreaker’s core was burning with anticipation, and the mech began to roll his hips in time with Bob’s thrusts.

“Ahh… F-frag,” Sunstreaker groaned, his words stuttered with Bob’s rhythmic and hard thrusts. “F-frag it ah-all! Th-that’s it!”

Bob churred back in response, and Sunstreaker felt the Insecticon shiver underneath his grasp before making another growl that sounded more like a purr. Continuing to roll his hips every time Bob thrust deep into him, hot lubricant squelching up from his valve, Sunstreaker grinned through a grimace as he felt his overload charges resume notching up. His valve was pleasantly full now, and he hadn’t even needed to use his digits. Just as he was ready to completely relax into the odd, unexpected, but immensely pleasurable situation he found himself in, Sunstreaker felt Bob’s spike engorge with something large and round as the Insecticon trilled happily.

“Hnh!” Sunstreaker groaned sharply as he felt his valve walls stretched just a little beyond their limits.

The smooth orb moved down through Bob’s spike as the Insecticon fervently rutted against Sunstreaker. The Insecticon had them firmly pinned against the berth; enough that the mech could barely writhe in a mix of pleasured pain. As his valve walls were massaged and stretched, sensors and receptors flared in a fresh, new sense of carnal satisfaction. Sunstreaker groaned loudly, whimpering as his overload charges rapidly notched up towards climax.

“Bob…! Bob!” Sunstreaker panted, his tone panicked as he realized he was about to overload with the Insecticon fully hilted in him and, from the feel of it, about to overload into him, as well. “Bob, please! I-I’m going-going to! F-frag! I’m overloading! I’m overloading!”

His last, gasped cry was strangled as his overload peaked, and Sunstreaker bucked upwards, and was just as quickly pinned back down. His spike throbbed with thick pulses of transfluid, while his valve struggled to accommodate the thick intrusion within it. Bob gave a low growl, keeping Sunstreaker underneath him as he gave two, strong, frantic thrusts. As Sunstreaker’s valve walls cinched tightly around Bob’s hard spike, the mech whimpered when he felt Bob’s overload pushed into him. It was unexpectedly a lot, and Sunstreaker moaned as he writhed in the midst of his overload and the Insecticon’s.

Bob continued to fervently hump Sunstreaker, causing the mech to jerk each time, churring excitedly. Lubricant spurted around the base of his spike, and the Insecticon contentedly licked at Sunstreaker’s neck cables as he lay the first egg into the mech’s reproduction chamber. Hot transfluid was smeared between them, but Bob paid it no heed. He was far more focused on the more important task at hand.

Moaning as his rode out his overload, lifting his hips as much as Bob would allow, Sunstreaker panted and tried to get his ventilation back. Just as he was about to relax into his much needed contented exhaustion, Sunstreaker felt Bob’s spike engorge once again with another orb-like shape. The sudden pressure against his already overly sensitive valve walls made Sunstreaker’s overload charges flare back to life, and he cried out as another climax was abruptly coaxed from him.

Bob continued to thrust roughly into Sunstreaker, churring and trilling in excitement. He was keeping the mech firmly underneath him, despite how they writhed in the throes of erotic release. Sunstreaker gasped and arched his back, feeling the Insecticon overload into him again. It was only as he felt Bob’s third overload that Sunstreaker realized what the Insecticon was doing. He looked down in a panic to see that the plating of his lower midsection was now distended and swollen.

“Oh-hh...frag.”

Before he could protest, Sunstreaker felt his frame begin to shudder with anticipation of another overload. He moaned and struggled, his swollen midsection pressing up against Bob’s frame, but had no desire for any of this to stop. The heady, hot, carnal ecstasy was practically intoxicating, and Sunstreaker rolled his hips in wanton desire, wordlessly urging Bob to continue. Overstimulated sensors were sending wild, erotic flashes of stimulation through Sunstreaker’s entire frame, his spike throbbing despite having been almost completely milked dry of transfluid by this point.

Crying out, Sunstreaker overloaded again, and hard. Lubricant spurted from his abused, wanton valve, coating Bob’s spike and ensuring that the eggs could be deposited with relative ease. The mesh walls continued to cinch rhythmically around the firm member, greedily urging another, and then another, and then another egg from the willing Insecticon. Groaning and arching his back, Sunstreaker struggled to roll his hips along with Bob’s seemingly tireless thrusts, the berth underneath him now slick with viscous lubricant and transfluid. His senses were fully lost to the carnal release that his repeated overloads were providing, and Sunstreaker cried out again as Bob gave another, hard thrust to lay another egg into his filled reproduction chamber.

Finally, the heavy waves of his climax began to subside, and this time, Bob began to slow his thrusts. He continued to churr reassuringly to Sunstreaker, nuzzling and licking at their neck, rocking back and forth to ensure that the eggs were safely laid within the mech’s reproduction chamber. Sunstreaker was far too tired to do anything but move along with the gentle rocking, supremely contented exhaustion washing over him. He cautiously lifted a trembling hand to his midsection, making a low moan when he realized how swollen and full it now was.

It was something that he would have to deal with later, however, as Sunstreaker found himself too tired and too spent to even move very much. As though sensing this, Bob carefully withdrew his spike, giving more reassuring nuzzles when Sunstreaker whined softly in mild discomfort, and then hopped down off the berth. He picked up two of the blankets and then clambered back onto the berth, dragging the blankets over to Sunstreaker. The exhausted mech looked over at the Insecticon, then noticed the blankets. With a weak grin, he gratefully took them and draped them over his soiled and tired frame.

“Good pet,” Sunstreaker whispered as he patted Bob’s helm gently.


End file.
